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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24825850">Stubborn To a Point</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualofSpades/pseuds/TheAsexualofSpades'>TheAsexualofSpades</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Quarantine Drabbles [88]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aunt Peggy Carter, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra (Marvel), Light Angst, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Post-HYDRA Reveal, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, and everyone seems to fuckin' forget that, can be platonic or romantic you decide, honestly this can be pre-slash if you squint hard enough, mainly because they TALK ABOUT THINGS, talking about feelings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:54:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,607</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24825850</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualofSpades/pseuds/TheAsexualofSpades</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Accords. Lagos. Thaddeus Ross. Sokovia. Washington D.C. So many things on his plate and Steve doesn't have any room for any more. </p><p>Then he gets the text. </p><p>She's gone. In her sleep.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers - Relationship, Peggy Carter &amp; Tony Stark, Peggy Carter/Daniel Sousa, Steve Rogers &amp; Avengers Team, Steve Rogers &amp; Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers &amp; Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Tony Stark &amp; Avengers Team</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Quarantine Drabbles [88]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677655</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>215</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Stevie just needs a hug🥺</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stubborn To a Point</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>they never talk and it pisses me off so i MADE THEM TALK</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fandom: Marvel</p><p>Prompt: “Why are you so stubborn?”</p>
<hr/><p>“Focus up, I’m sorry, did I just—“ Tony twirls his finger around his head—“mishear you, or did you agree with me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I wanna take it back—“</p><p> </p><p>“No no no, you can’t retract it—“</p><p> </p><p>Steve grimaces, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket. The <em>last </em>thing he needs right now is another problem. The Accords, Tony, <em>Nat, </em>everything is demanding every inch of his concentration. He pulls his phone out, frowning at the screen.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>+44 020 7946 0722: She’s gone. In her sleep.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I have to go.”</p><p> </p><p>He ignores the end of the bickering between Tony and Nat, ignores Wanda’s curious look, ignores Sam and Rhodey pausing to watch him go. He doesn’t realize Sam had glanced over when his posture changed, accidentally reading the text over his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>He walks on autopilot, out of the room, onto the stairs, when he has to stop, at the edge of the banisters, and lean onto them for support.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Peggy.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Margaret Elizabeth Carter is dead.</p><p> </p><p>When Steve woke up in the 21st Century, he woke up in a room with a baseball game he’d <em>been </em>to playing on the radio. He woke up with an officer who wore her hair wrong, had on a men’s tie, and stuck out like a sore thumb. He woke up to a world where he understood nothing and suddenly was forced to trust a man who wouldn’t tell him anything.</p><p> </p><p>He remembers the punch in his gut when they gave him two weeks—<em>two weeks—</em>in a New York that rasped against his skin and prodded at his rough edges, alone in a barren apartment that didn’t feel like his. The only information they gave him was a stack of manilla files on every single one of his family, the Howling Commandos, Howard, and Peggy. He remembers wanting to throw up when <em>every single one of them, </em>except for Peggy’s, had ‘DECEASED’ stamped on it in big, red letters. He remembers sitting there, alone, cold, in the apartment, reading through them one by one, hearing them described as nothing more than data points, not the people he bled for, <em>died </em>for. One right after the other.</p><p> </p><p>He remembers calling the number in Peggy’s file, having to swallow his frustration as he explained yes, he is Steve Rogers, <em>the </em>Steve Rogers, no he’s not dead, he’d like to speak with Peggy, please. No, this isn’t a prank call, look, can he just drop by, please? Yes, you can give him the address over the phone, no he doesn’t know how to look it up, he’s just figured out that this apartment <em>has </em>a phone, look, can you just give him the address, please? Thank you.</p><p> </p><p>And then maybe, <em>maybe, </em>he can get some relief from the fact that it’s <em>over, </em>the world is at peace. The Tesseract he died for is gone. He’s done <em>something </em>right. <em>Look, </em>he can say to all the ghosts that still hang over his shoulders, <em>look. I don’t know why I survived and you didn’t. It’s not fair. I know it’s not fair. But I’ve done this, right?</em></p><p> </p><p>No. No, he hasn’t. Because two weeks isn’t enough time to recover from being ripped away from everything he knows.</p><p> </p><p>Because when Fury finds him in a gym in Brooklyn, pounding a bag because it’s the only thing that makes the ghosts drown in the blood rushing through his ears, he says that not only did they <em>find </em>the Tesseract, but now they’ve lost it. It’s only been two weeks for him since he <em>just cleaned up this mess, </em>and now they want him to do it again? After they told him they won?</p><p> </p><p>And it gets worse. Because the people who told him <em>we won, Cap, </em>are no better than the people who he <em>fought </em>to get it away from. They want to use it to make weapons. It’s been two weeks since entire battalions of Steve’s brothers were vaporized. Since a weapon of mass destruction was aimed at the city <em>Steve is standing in </em>and suddenly he’s supposed to help the people <em>who lied to him </em>get it back so they can do the same thing? He’s supposed to work for the bullies now?</p><p> </p><p>And he’s able to put it aside because there are now <em>aliens.</em></p><p> </p><p>Sure. Why not.</p><p> </p><p>Then the aliens go away and the Tesseract leaves with them. Thank god. Maybe it’ll <em>stay </em>gone this time.</p><p> </p><p>Steve tried to leave. He tried so hard to get on his motorcycle and <em>go. </em>Leave the bullies.</p><p> </p><p>They found him.</p><p> </p><p>They found him under false pretenses.</p><p> </p><p>‘Come with us,’ they said, with their offers of security and privacy and the opportunity to <em>think, </em>‘come with us and we’ll help you. We’ll give you space, give you time. Why are you so stubborn? Come with us.’</p><p> </p><p>He got space. He got an isolated cabin in the middle of nowhere, miles and miles from anyone else.</p><p> </p><p>He got time. Five months. Five months without seeing another person. Five months alone with the files of his ghosts. Five months where he swore he would lose his mind because the cabinet he snapped off accidentally is fixed miraculously, stronger than before. Five months where either he’s going crazy or everything is <em>alive.</em></p><p> </p><p>He bit his tongue and said <em>let me out.</em></p><p> </p><p>He put his faith in the people he fought beside. He knows how to do that. He put his faith in the fiery survivor that smirked at him with a mouth full of blood and <em>talked </em>to him. He put his faith in Natasha Romanoff when she tells him her story, about how she took her world of grey and tried to make it better. She helps him adjust. So he joins her. If he can fight by her side, perhaps this will be easier.</p><p> </p><p>It isn’t.</p><p> </p><p>Steve bites his lip so hard he winces, his breath echoing around the stairwell. He has to focus. Now isn’t the time for any of this. He can freak out later. Right now, he has more important things to worry about.</p><p> </p><p>Peggy’s dead. He has to figure out what to do next.</p><p> </p><p>It seems his brain is determined to keep running with this spiral, though, because it <em>hurts. </em>It hurts so badly because she was the last tie he had to the world he knew. And now she’s gone and the only things he has left are the sketch of the dancing monkey—feeling more and more like a self-portrait by the minute—the ghostly shell of his best friend that is nowhere and everywhere, and—</p><p> </p><p>“Cap. Hey, Cap.”</p><p> </p><p>Steve looks up to see Tony standing on the stairs, a few flights above him. He doesn’t want to fight, not now. He knows it’ll spin out of control and the last thing he wants is to push more people away.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry Tony,” he mutters, “I can’t talk right now.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sam and Rhodey saw you motor off,” Tony says, coming down a step, “Sam looked upset. Said we should give you some time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe you should listen to him,” Steve grits out.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t believe they told you over text.”</p><p> </p><p>Steve freezes, turning slowly back around and looking up at Tony who…looks angry, but the type of angry he gets when some stuffed suit is being rude to Pepper or when one of his grant partners gets stiffed by someone else. Tony stuffs his hands in his pockets and jerks his chin upstairs.</p><p> </p><p>“Sam saw.”</p><p> </p><p>Steve closes his eyes, nodding. Right.</p><p> </p><p>“You okay?”</p><p> </p><p>It makes him laugh, that’s for sure. They were at each other’s throats a moment ago, now…now he’s not sure.</p><p> </p><p>“No,” he says truthfully, looking back up. “But I gotta go.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.” Tony nods toward the stairs, “Go. Do what you gotta do. We’ll get everything wrapped up here.”</p><p><br/>
Steve’s about to go when Tony’s words hit him.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>Tony shrugs. “I mean we’ll get all this Accords nonsense sorted so you don’t have to worry about it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Tony—“</p><p> </p><p>“It’s nothing, Cap, promise,” Tony interrupts, coming down to clap him on the shoulder, “you go. Tell her she was the best godmother I could ask for, would you?”</p><p> </p><p>Steve’s about to open his mouth to <em>repeat </em>what he was going to say before Tony cut him off when he hears the last part. “She was your godmother?”</p><p> </p><p>Tony huffs. “Well, it’s not like <em>Howard </em>was around to do any actual parenting. ‘Least Peggy didn’t talk about <em>you </em>all the time.”</p><p> </p><p>And you know what, that’s enough.</p><p> </p><p>“Tony, what the hell did I ever do to you?”</p><p> </p><p>Tony pauses, still leaning against the railing, frowning up at Steve. “What?”</p><p> </p><p>“This, all of this—“ Steve waves his hand up and down Tony’s length— “about Howard, about Peggy, you know I didn’t <em>do </em>anything to Howard, right? I didn’t <em>know </em>Howard like that! He was just someone I worked with, someone I considered my <em>friend. </em>Hell, half the time when you <em>talk </em>about what Howard said about me I can’t believe it’s the same person!”</p><p> </p><p>Steve turns around, pacing, still gesturing wildly at the space between them. Tony’s silent, watching.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t tell Howard any of the things you say he said. I didn’t try and get his favor. I didn’t try and get him to put me on a pedestal so high up that it makes you actively try and knock me off it.” He spreads his arms wide, <em>trying </em>to understand how this happened. “I did my best. I fought the only way I knew how. And that included dying. Well—“ Steve laughs mirthlessly, gesturing to himself—“apparently not.”</p><p> </p><p>He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and reopening them in time to take a small step closer to Tony.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry Howard was so awful to you, really I am. I’m sorry that bitterness took him and made him a different man than the one I knew. And I’m sorry that he used <em>me </em>as a weapon to hurt you.”</p><p> </p><p>He pauses for another breath.</p><p> </p><p>“But please, don’t try and put that on me. I didn’t tell him to do it. And I’m not going to hold <em>you </em>responsible for the things he did. You want me to admit I’m not perfect?” He spreads his arms. “I’m not perfect. I make mistakes. And I’m <em>trying my best.”</em></p><p> </p><p>He drops his arms. “And you’re not the only one who’s pissed at Howard Stark’s horrible parenting.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak.</p><p> </p><p>Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m sorry. For everything. And I do trust your judgment, with the Accords and everything, I do, but…this needs to be a longer conversation. And I can’t have it right now.”</p><p> </p><p>He looks up at Tony. “Please don’t cut me out of it.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony’s still leaning against the railing. The casual nature of the pose is gone. It looks forced. Like he’s leaning against the rails just to have something to grab onto.</p><p> </p><p>“I hated you when I was growing up.”</p><p> </p><p>Steve deflates, letting his chin drop to his chest. He crosses his arms and waits.</p><p> </p><p>“Dad never stopped talking about you,” Tony continues, “like, ever. Every time I did something, he was all ‘Cap this,’ ‘Cap that.’ God, I hated you.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony stops, looking at the ground, fiddling with his hands.</p><p> </p><p>“But that doesn’t make it your fault.” He looks at Steve. “Like you said. Howard was a shitty dad. But that’s <em>his </em>fault, isn’t it? Me putting that on you excuses it.”</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t imagine how pissed I got,” Steve mumbles, “when I figured out how much of a bad parent Howard became.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony scoffs. “I didn’t believe Fury when he told me how much Dad cared. Still don’t. You know he recorded some bullshit message to play to me after he died? Like that excused all of the other crap he put me through?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m glad you had Peggy,” Steve says, hoping the genuine tone won’t be lost on Tony.</p><p> </p><p>“Me too.” Tony rocks back and forth on the stair. “I used to beg to spend the day at her house. With her husband. Away from Dad.” He looks at Steve. “You ever meet him?”</p><p> </p><p>“Daniel?” Steve shakes his head. “Peggy talked about him though. I wish I could’ve.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’d’ve loved him.”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a few moments of silence. The stairwell echoes quietly with the ambient noises of the Tower.</p><p> </p><p>“Tell you what,” Tony says finally, “gimme a few minutes and I’ll get FRIDAY to pull the good jet around.”</p><p> </p><p>Steve frowns. “What?”</p><p> </p><p>Tony glances at him. “Unless you wanna sit through coach?”</p><p> </p><p>“You…you’re coming with?”</p><p> </p><p>Tony raises an eyebrow. “What, you think I’m gonna let you go to a funeral by yourself?”</p><p> </p><p>Steve’s breath catches in his throat. “Tony…”</p><p> </p><p>“She was my godmother, Steve,” Tony says quietly, all playfulness gone out of his voice, “and she was important to all of us. Besides,” he says, taking on a mock scold, “were you really about to leave without telling us?”</p><p> </p><p>It makes Steve chuckle at the very least. “You’re right, how could I?”</p><p> </p><p>“At the very least, Romanoff would kick your ass into next week.”</p><p> </p><p>“At the very least.”</p><p> </p><p>“Come on,” Tony calls, “I’ll let FRIDAY know. You realize that trying to book most transatlantic flights is a scam, they jack up the prices—“</p><p> </p><p>“Tony,” Steve says, stopping him, “thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony softens. “Thank <em>you.” </em>He takes his hands out of his pockets. “Probably shoulda talked that out ages ago, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“There’s more,” Steve says, “<em>way </em>more that we should talk about. And I want to, I promise, it’s just—“</p><p> </p><p>“Hey,” Tony says, “I get it. And, uh, I got some stuff of my own.”</p><p> </p><p>They smile at each other and go to break the news to the rest of the team. Nat bounces to her feet immediately. Sam says he’s coming and Steve dares not argue. Before long, the entire <em>team </em>is coming.</p><p> </p><p>Steve sits in the cockpit not an hour later, Tony by his side. The jet lifts off.</p><p> </p><p>“Well,” Tony says, leaning back in the chair, “we’ve got a few hours to kill. Anything else you wanna talk about?”</p><p> </p><p>Steve thinks.</p><p> </p><p>Actually, yeah, there is.</p><p> </p><p>“You remember how Nat dumped SHIELD’s files when we took down HYDRA?”</p><p> </p><p>Tony nods. “Still mad I missed that.”</p><p> </p><p>Steve doesn't take the bait. “I’ve been looking through them. Trying to find something. And…I found something I think you should know.”</p><p>“Where Fury keeps his spare eyepatch?”</p><p> </p><p>“About your parents’ death.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony stops. Drops all the joking pretense. Leans forward to listen.</p><p> </p><p>They make the decision to move to a private part of the plane. Steve sits by the door, asks if it’s really okay to tell Tony this <em>right now, </em>it’s not going to be easy. Tony sits, gives him a look, tells him to spill. Steve tells him. Tells him everything he knows.</p><p> </p><p>Tony rages. Screams. Shouts. Gets angry and <em>stays </em>angry for a while. Steve lets him. Takes the brunt of it. Apologizes. Waits.</p><p> </p><p>Tony wears himself out. Grows quiet. Sad. Mutters that it isn’t Steve’s fault, didn’t they <em>just </em>talk about that? Steve stands, hesitantly, crouches beside Tony on the floor, wraps him carefully in a hug, lets Tony cry into his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>There’s still hours to go on the flight.</p><p> </p><p>When they land at the funeral, they walk outside by side. No one dares come between them.</p><p> </p><p>They’re not all the way better. How can they be? They’ve only had two conversations. But it’s a start.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>We stand together or not at all.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! Come yell at me on tumblr while we're all in quarantine. </p><p>https://a-small-batch-of-dragons.tumblr.com/</p></blockquote></div></div>
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